


According to Plan

by Tatalina



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3x11, Alpha Pact, Episode: s03e11 Alpha Pact, Gen, I was freaking out and needed to write something, Somewhat of a Fix-It, this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:40:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatalina/pseuds/Tatalina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after they go into the tubs. </p>
<p>Basically, I was freaking out, so I wrote a thing off of 3x11 to try and cheer myself up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	According to Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I wrote this in ten minutes, and that it hasn't been beta'd, so there are probably tons of errors, and it's not my best writing.

It was a moment of haziness, of freezing cold surrounding him from all sides, pushing down with all its weight onto his face and chest, of slow creeping darkness snaking its way up his body from his toes, until he was shrouded in it. And then, there was nothing. There was nothing but shadows passing through his line of vision, so blurry and indistinguishable. There were faint whispers of people talking; most of whom he’d never heard before, but most forefront were the voices of those he’s lost. Heather. Boyd. Erica. And finally, talking in her quiet voice, but still louder than all the rest: His Mom.

It took a few moments to decipher, but then he realized she was talking to him. Whispering sweet nothings of comfort, like she used to do when he had a nightmare. Like he always imagined she would have done, had she been present for his panic attacks. She used his name and for a moment, he was shocked; he hadn’t been called that in so long, it almost felt as if it was a different person. But at the same time, it was him and only him, and the name felt so right and completely true when it came from her.

He tried to speak, to say anything. To tell her how much he’d missed her and how he didn’t know what to do because despite every plan he made and every attempt to maintain his life, things were falling apart and coming undone around him. He tried to ask what to do, because it felt like he was falling deeper and deeper into the Tartarus, where everything just got worse as he fell. He could barely get through life in general, let alone with all of this supernatural shit, where someone crazy person was always trying to kill everyone else for some vendetta. Peter, then Matt, and now, Jennifer, or whatever her name was. He wanted his mom to understand what he was doing, to tell him it was okay, because he couldn’t let his dad die. If nothing else, his dad needed to live, even if it meant Stiles’ death. But when he opened his mouth to speak, no words came out and his mother shh’d him gently.

The people around him were becoming clearer, their voices becoming louder, and for a moment Stiles couldn’t feel or remember the sharp edges of his father’s badge digging into his hand. His grip began to loosen ever so slightly, and the metal started to shift, slowly sinking out of his grip.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Even after what felt like days of sitting in the cellar, the Sheriff still had no idea what the place was. Blake, who he now knew was most certainly not an English teacher, had called it a nebutant, and Melissa had explained as much as she could, but he still didn’t understand why this place. Blake wanted to kill them, sacrifice them, here. That was all he knew. Chris seemed to know more, but not enough to help their situation.

So they were sitting there, trying to make conversation, trying to figure a way out, so that they could go back to their kids, their children who had been dealing with nightmares that the Sheriff hadn’t even believed in up until what happened in the classroom. Stiles, he thought sadly, who had been trying so hard to explain everything, to help keep his dad safe, when in reality it was supposed to be the other way around. Not for the first time, the Sheriff wondered if he even counted as a “Guardian.” Stiles was the real protector here. In all honesty, all of their kids could be considered the guardians. They fought against the supernatural and protected the town—they protected their parents, too.

The Sheriff shook his head and raised his gaze to look at Melissa and Chris, both of whom seemed relatively calm, considering their situation.

“Do you know if they have a plan? To get us?” He asked eventually.

Chris shrugged.

“There was a plan, but I let myself get captured, thinking I could get us out on my own. At this point, we just have to hope that they’ve regrouped.”

Melissa nodded and they fell back into silence, and into their own heads again.

Minutes later, the roots of the tree began to hum softly, pulling all of the parents from their own thoughts. The roots weren’t shaking or vibrating, the Sheriff realized, just emitting a soft sound. The doors to the cellar were thrown open, and Blake came running down, stopping in front of them.

To the Sheriff’s surprise, she began to laugh.

“I can’t believe it,” she said quietly, to herself. “They actually did it.”

“What are you talking about?” Melissa asked, her voice sharp.

“You’ll found out soon enough, I imagine,” Blake responded. She turned around and pulled out a knife, cutting the other woman’s bindings, before dropping the knife next to her and leaving. “You’re all free to go. I have no use for you now that the sacrifices have been completed.” She turned to go.

“What did you do?” Chris asked angrily.

“Oh, I did nothing. It’s your kids you might want to worry about. I’d say ask them, but I don’t think that’s an option anymore.” With that, Blake left, leaving the doors wide open. The parents gave each other wide-eyed looks before Melissa picked up the knife and moved to cut the other’s ropes, her hands shaking somewhat.

“What did she mean by that?” The Sheriff asked after both he and Chris were free. Her meaning seemed clear, but at the same time, made no sense.

No one spoke for a few moments, but eventually, it was Chris who broke the silence.

“There were three sacrifices—something someone did, to replace us. Something she hadn’t planned for, but doesn’t mind. That means there were three people who chose to do it.” He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. When he finally looked back at the two other parents, his eyes were watery. “Which three people come to mind?”

The Sheriff and Melissa froze. Melissa let out a small, choked sound as understanding clicked, and the Sheriff just stared. Not again, he thought, this can’t be happening again.

“We need to go to Deaton’s. Whatever happened, he’ll know,” Chris said quietly. Neither of the others seemed to hear him at first, but as he made his way towards the door, they followed in silence, both too preoccupied with their own thoughts to do much else than that.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Scott felt like he was floating. Earlier, it had been as if he were in a whole new place, but now, he was caught between drifting and being dragged back. To where, he didn’t know, but it felt as if there were a current, or a line, pulling him somewhere. At first, he’d tried to struggle against it, but there was a feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach that told him he had to let it take him. For a few moments, he just felt like he was nowhere and everywhere all at once, but then the feeling of crippling cold took over his body. Why was he so cold? He wondered as he began to shake. He opened his eyes slowly, as the tremors wracked his body.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The walk to Deaton’s was a long one, made only longer by the occasional stops they had to make so that they could gather their thoughts and keep from crying. They all knew what waited for them there, if anything, even with the small amount of hope that each one carried for the opposite, each parent was well aware of what had probably occurred.  
When they finally reached the Clinic, and saw the various cars that were outside it, Melissa finally broke down completely, sobbing quietly into her hand. Both the Sheriff and Chris put an arm around her, trying to offer comfort when they too were so close to being unable to go on all together. It wasn’t as if they’d have anyone to go home to, after this. No lover or second child. All three of them were now alone, and for each of them, that meant something different.

The Sheriff was plagued with guilt. For the second time, it seemed, he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been able to help or offer comfort. He hadn’t been able to stop it.  
Chris couldn’t even register what he was feeling. So soon after Victoria; he didn’t know what he would do. They had agreed, together, that they would retire, that they would just be a normal family, and look where that had gotten them. Hunting was in their blood—he guessed they couldn’t escape it, but after everything it had cost him, he just wished that it would go away. First his sister and father, then his wife, and now his daughter. He honestly didn’t know if he could handle this anymore. He thought that by giving himself up, he could protect Allison, but in fact, it seemed that he’d just guaranteed her fate. The guilt from that—Chris didn’t know if he could handle it.

And throughout all of this Melissa had trusted Scott to stay strong and to do his best to protect everyone he could, but never had she thought that he might go this far. This wasn’t something she would ever have wanted.

They pushed through the glass doors, and then made their way into the back room, together.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Allison was the first to come back to herself, for some reason that she couldn’t understand. She had assumed that Scott would be first, then Stiles, before Deaton got to her. But then again, Deaton wasn’t the only factor in play here. For the time being, she had other things to focus on, though, as she sat up slowly, shivering in the freezing water.

Isaac was immediately there, offering her a huge blanket and helping her out of the tub. She looked over, to see Scott jerk forward into a sitting position, his eyes blazing red. Stiles was still in the water, his skin paler than she’d ever seen, and Lydia holding him loosely, looking ready to cry.

Allison tried to speak, but her entire body and face felt numb. She couldn’t even move her lips to form the words, it felt like.

“He’s not waking up. Why isn’t he waking up?” Lydia panicked. “It doesn’t feel right. Deaton, do something! He’s starting to feel like all of the others. Help him!” Almost immediately, Deaton moved to the side of Stiles’ tub, and reached in to hold the boy’s fist, closing it around the metal badge that had been floating there, no longer gripped, but still trapped in the cage of frozen fingers.

The doors burst open as Deaton and Lydia lifted Stiles from the cold water and set him on the metal table, on top of a blanket. Chris and Melissa immediately ran towards their kids, each of who were staring at Stiles’ still body, both of them wrapped in blankets and shaking heavily. Allison had started crying, along with Lydia, and was staring at Stiles, oblivious to her father who was now wrapping his arms around her in relief.

Scott hugged his mom tightly, forgetting for a moment about anything but the fact that she was now alive. And then reality snuck back in as he heard the Sheriff’s choked breathing behind him. Deaton had started CPR, with Lydia holding onto Stiles’ hand, both of them trying to anchor him back down.

Finally, the boy on the table breathed again, a small shallow breath, and his fingers twitched before gripping the badge tighter. His eyes flicked open and then focused on Lydia’s frantic face and Deaton’s somewhat nervous one above him.

“Did it work?” Stiles stammered out, through shaking lips. His entire body was shaking and he clenched his fist around the badge to try and stop the shivers. It didn’t work, instead making his muscles spasm a bit.

“Yeah, it did,” Lydia whispered as she wrapped him in a huge blanket.

The Sheriff rushed over, immediately pulling his son into a hug. It took a few moments for Stiles to reciprocate, but when he did, he was crying.

“Don’t you ever do something like that again, kid,” was all his dad said. Both Chris and Melissa were sharing similar words with their own children.

While Stiles knew that it wasn’t over. That they still had to face Blake and the Alpha Pack, it seemed a little bit better, now that he knew his dad was safe, and now that his dad knew everything. Maybe, just maybe, they would be able to defeat them, and anything else that came to Beacon Hills because of what he, Scott, and Allison had just done.


End file.
